Pearl of Wisdom (Finn and his Dad have a heart-to-heart about Rae)
by DissertationCanWait
Summary: I've been wanting to write this for days! I don't write fanfic very often, but I'm absolutely obsessed with MMFD at the moment and absolutely love the relationship between Finn and Rae. This story is about Finn opening up to his Dad (who I named Steve) about his love for Rae.


Gardener's World had nearly finished by the time he heard Finn come through the front door. "Alright son!" Steve shouted over his shoulder, expecting to hear the usual small "Y'alright." followed by the sound of him ascending the stairs and the click of his bedroom door closing. Instead, the reply came from the living room doorway. Steve turned around fully to find Finn standing awkwardly on the threshold, his fingers gently touching the door jamb before moving upwards to quickly muss his hair. Although he was trying to look nonchalant, Steve knew something was up.

"You ok?"

Finn nodded, and Steve quickly got up to turn the volume down on the TV. When he turned around, he flapped his arms slightly and smiled. "Fancy a chat? We haven't spoken in a while. I'll get us a drink." He didn't talk to his son very often, didn't manage to get much out of him when he did, but something in him sensed Finn wanted to open up to him tonight. He knew he had to tread carefully so Finn didn't close himself off completely, something he was quite good at. Keeping things casual seemed a good tactic. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a can of beer for him and his son from the fridge, his confidence increasing when he saw Finn had taken his jacket off and sat down on the sofa when he returned. He was slouched forward, resting his forearms on his knees and wringing his hands, attempting to look fascinated by the Gardener's World end credits. Steve sat down slowly, handing a cold can to his son before opening his own.

"Don't tell Mum." he said, nudging Finn's arm and winking. Finn rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. He muttered "I'm 17." before the can touched his lips and he took a very large gulp. Steve usually would have bickered with him until Finn wandered off, annoyed. He always seemed to annoy him, he found, or bore him. He would talk to Finn about his day, ask him how his went, ask him about school, and Finn's eyes would often glaze over in boredom. Steve would continue on regardless. If there was anything Finn had inherited from him, it certainly wasn't his ability to chat until the cows came home.

"So…what's on your mind?"

Finn's eyes left the TV and landed on the can in his hands. He tapped it with his fingers, a deep frown appearing on his face. It was a look reminiscent of the time he fell and took the skin off his right knee when he was 8, his brow furrowing as his Mum applied alcohol to the cut before covering it in a plaster. He'd had a few accidents in his time, but that was one of the nastier ones. He never moaned too much though, had always been a brave little boy. Steve got up to turn the TV off completely, walking back to the sofa after he did so.

He began to wait patiently, knowing that Finn would talk in his own time. He wondered what could possibly be wrong; had he got into a fight at school? Was he in trouble with someone? No, it didn't seem to be that kind of problem. He had a feeling the issue at hand was a little bit more sensitive than that.

"Dad…how do you know if…" He trailed off, his frown persistent. Steve realised he'd forgotten to take a drink of his own beer, too caught up in staring at Finn, eagerly anticipating what he was going to say. He knew Finn felt uncomfortable whenever somebody stared at him, so Steve looked away and took a swig, looking down at his own hands, hoping his diverted attention would bring Finn out a bit more.

When nothing seemed to happen, he tentatively supplied: "If what?"

Finn glanced at his Dad, before settling back on the beer can, biting the inside of his mouth. With a big release of air from his lungs, he completed the sentence in a vehement rush.

"…if you love someone?"

Ah, there we go. Girl trouble. He should have guessed, although to be fair, Finn very rarely talked about girls. If he had girlfriends, and Steve was almost sure he did, Finn would never really talk about them with him, which made Steve sad at times. He would like to be able to talk to Finn about girls, give him pearls of wisdom, make him laugh with anecdotes about meeting his Mum (Black Sabbath hometown gig, Birmingham, 1973) but he never had the chance to. Finn viewed his Dad as a boring old plank of wood, he was sure, but then-again, that was his role as a parent. So what if he liked gardening now? So what if he was a bit house proud and didn't mind helping his wife with the laundry? He was contented enough, but sometimes he wished for the best of both worlds, to both do his own thing and for his son to view him as 'his cool old man.' All he knew now was his son needed him at this very moment, and he was going to do his best not to let him down.

Finn continued to bite the inside of his cheek, and Steve thought he better talk quickly before he drew blood.

"That's a loaded question that. I assume you mean romantic love, like?" Finn nodded slowly, still a bit pained.

"Well I s'pose, if we're talking 'the real thing', I'd say if you love someone, you couldn't imagine your life without 'em. If that person makes you feel real happy and makes your life a right load better then, that's love, at least to me. Of course, you've got to fancy them, find them attractive, you know."

Finn's face eased a bit as he listened to his Dad speak, and Steve's mind shot back to when Finn was a baby and he'd sit by his cot and softly sing "Hey Jude." to lull him to sleep.

They both took another swig of beer in unison. Finn glanced at Steve underhandedly again, and his change in mood made Steve feel a bit braver.

"Maybe if I knew which girl we were talkin' about here, I might be of more help?" He noticed Finn tense up a bit at his words. Steve changed his tactic slightly.

"C'mon mate, I won't tell anyone, you know that...not even Mum if you don't want me to."

Steve thought back to all the girls he'd seen Finn with. There was that red haired girl, (Isabel?) but she seemed a bit young for him and perhaps a bit too happy for Finn's taste. Then there was that blonde haired gal who'd been cheering him on at that football match a year or two ago, although he hadn't seen her since. Then of course those two girls came over not too long ago - he remembered the lass in the skimpy red dress because she made a point of introducing herself as she walked past him en route to the loo. "Hello Mr Nelson!" she'd chirped happily. "I'm Chloe, Finn's friend." 'I'm sure you are.' He remembered thinking. Anyone wearing an outfit like that was certainly out to impress. Then there was Rachel (or Rae as Finn called her) the big girl who he had to drive home because she was feeling unwell. He couldn't shake the suspicion that perhaps Chloe had done something to make her ill to get rid of her, but that probably came from watching too much Poirot.

Steve ventured a guess.

"Is it that Chloe girl? The one in the very revealing dress who came round the other day?"

"No!" Finn said, perhaps a bit more aggressively than he intended. Steve smiled inwardly; he was sure Chloe was a lovely girl, but he couldn't quite envision them together.

After the silence had stretched out for another minute, Steve asked gently: "Who then?"

Finn let out a long sigh. "Promise you won't tell anyone? Please, Dad."

"Look, you don't have to tell me mate, not if you don't want to - I just think it might help if you talked about her in more detail, might make things a bit easier for ya."

"Just tell me you won't tell anyone, please." Finn turned to look his Dad in the eye.

Steve said slowly and surely: "Like I said to you, I promise alright? Not one word to anyone."

Finn closed his mouth and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He took another drink and put the can down on the coffee table. He began to talk, quietly. Steve was thankful for the silence in the house, as he wouldn't have been able to hear him otherwise.

"Ya remember the girl who was with her? The one who felt sick and you…t-took her home?" Finn looked around slowly, in time to see his Dad nod.

"Rachel." Steve said.

"Rae." Finn corrected.

"Rae. Yeah…what about her?" Finn sat upright for the first time in the conversation, looking at his Dad incredulously.

"_Her_ Dad, I'm talkin' about her."

Steve felt like a prized twat for how long it took him to put two and two together. It occurred to him then that he clearly hadn't given his son nearly enough credit. There was him thinking Finn only went for the skinny birds with make-up and short skirts, but instead there he was, confessing his love for a girl who didn't fit into any of those categories. In that moment, he had never felt prouder of his son.

Steve wanted to hide his adulation, to 'play it cool' as it were, but his attempt failed completely as he suddenly plonked his beer down hard on the coffee table, grabbed Finn by the shoulders and brought him in for a tight hug, planting a kiss on his cheek. Finn shouted out "Dad! What you doin'?!" in embarrassment, but Steve could hear a hint of amusement in his voice. When he released him he could tell Finn was trying to hide a smirk. "You're mental you are!" he exclaimed, flattening his hair dramatically.

Finn visibly relaxed from that point on, confession made. They shared a conversation longer and deeper than any Steve could remember, and Steve managed to tell Finn the stories of all his past girlfriends to a surprisingly attentive response, the number of beers in the fridge dwindling as time passed. Steve also listened as Finn talked about Rae, still with an air of inner conflict and restraint due to not knowing if she felt the same, but he listened as Finn reminisced about how he got to know her: "I was hoping she'd pick a stupid Take That! song or something, but she picked bloody Beastie Boys! Then she downed a whole pint like it was nothing…" he relayed with a fond smile. They also talked a little bit about jealousy and how to work through it: "I like Archie, I do but…she's always seemed to like him the most, although sometimes when she looks at me I could swear…" His face then darkened further still as he retold the story of a time he beat up a gang in the street for making fun of her.

Steve responded: "I wondered why your knuckles were bruised that day. I wanted to talk to you about that but…"

"I know. I know I don't talk that much to ya, I just…well, I don't know why I don't, really."

"It's ok, son." Steve reassured with a smile. He didn't want to lose what they were sharing at that moment by exploring Finn's insecurities.

The more Finn shared, the easier he became, the weight of all he'd stored up slowly being shed. As the conversation slowed down, it became clear that the effort of sharing combined with the booze had taken its toll on Finn, who closed his eyes, the small smile of relief still playing on his lips. Steve watched him for a while, thinking once again of how he hadn't changed much since he was a baby, not to him at least. It could be 16 years ago, he thought to himself with a smile of his own. When he was sure Finn was out cold, he gently manoeuvred him so he was lying down completely, taking off his shoes and covering him with a blanket. He hoped in that moment that this Rae girl felt the same about him, and in light of the lad recently losing his beloved Nan, Finn needed a bit of happiness.

* * *

Things had more or less gone back to normal routine after that night. Steve knew what had happened was a once in a blue moon type thing, and as with all things of that nature, you can't force them. He still hoped to be kept updated in some way shape or form over his situation with Rachel (Sorry, Rae!).

It wasn't long after the night of the confession that Finn came walking into the kitchen as Steve was boiling the kettle.

"Dad…Rae's here. Can she stay with us for a bit? She fell out with her Mum." His cheeks went a bit pink and Steve raised his eyebrows, all ready to gently tease him. He thought better of it, however, deciding not to alienate him with his usual 'Dad act'. Instead he simply said: "Of course she can. I'll get the spare room ready." before getting a third mug from the cupboard and placing it on the side. "I'll leave you to finish that." Steve said with a warm smile, patting his blushing son on the back and leaving to go get the iron.


End file.
